


Saw

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard’s thrown into a mild crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MocaJava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MocaJava/gifts).



> A/N: Drabble for anon’s “So Bard may have developed an instant fancy for one of the Dwarves when he first saw them. Not that he'd admit it to himself, he's not into men, not at all. Except that one Dwarf, who was awfully attractive.” request on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/13429.html?thread=25304181#t25304181).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It was easier when he thought the dwarf a woman. He drew his bow, felt a surge of traitorous attraction, knew it couldn’t matter because _anyone_ in these parts is dangerous, and he was never planning to shoot but at least had that protection.

And then the dwarf had to look up, reveal himself to be not only a _dwarf_ but a _man_ , sopping wet and cute as a button. Bard never really under that phrase until he saw that one dwarf sitting there, dragged out of the river and drenched through, with too much flattened hair and enough beard to but Bard’s to shame. He still wouldn’t have shot his arrow, not at anyone innocent, but it would’ve been _so much easier_ if he could’ve gone through the guise of protecting this land without the startling realization that he was, _is_ , still painfully attracted to a _male_ dwarf.

And now he’s stuck hauling that one beauty, plus thirteen other living, breathing nuisances, right across to the town he was trying to protect. 

Beautiful might not be the right word. He glances over his shoulder again, though he knows these waters are dangerous and it’s best to keep his eye ahead and his attention on his oar. The biggest dwarf—the bald one that first leapt to protect the cute one—keeps glaring at him, and that unsettles him enough to turn back around. 

But he did glimpse the cute one again, drying off but still slicked with little drops of water, beaded up in his chestnut hair and at the end of his round nose. His thick fingers keep trying to squeeze the moisture out of his clothes, but it isn’t helping much. He’s bundled up like a child, and he looks fair and young, small compared to the others, though he’s probably older than Bard is—dwarves are long-lived. When he smiles hopefully or in laughter at what the other dwarves are saying, he looks almost _pretty_ , soft and wistful and the sort of creature that Bard can picture in bed beneath his hands. 

Yet it’s a _male_ dwarf, and he can’t get over that, repeats it in his head over and over again, because that just _isn’t the way of things._ When he really wracks his brain for why, he can’t find any palpable reason why such a thing should matter, yet he’s rattled to his core by the discovery. Nothing will ever happen; this dwarf is off on some wild quest that’s no business of Bard’s, and he’ll be out of Bard’s life in no time at all, and they’ll never see one another again. But it bothers him nonetheless.

No matter what, Bard will be left with the knowledge that he’s attracted to men. Or at least, one man. That particular one man. Perhaps it’s just the one particularly adorable dwarf who’s irresistible, and had Bard never chanced to see him soaking wet and emptying his boots into the river, all his clothes clinging to his shapely form and his hair slicked around his freckled face, his eyes big as they watched Bard in awe, Bard could’ve gone the rest of his life without this conundrum. 

Later, as he’s dumping fish over all their heads, he whispers, “Sorry,” to the one. Just the one. And then he goes on with this harebrained scheme, alternatively plotting how to convince that one to stay and telling his brain to _shut up._

He leaves them as soon as he can, because even smelling of fish, the cute one’s still attractive, and when he asks Bard if there’s anywhere to lie down, Bard gestures him to the bed. Then Bard hurries off in a flash to find the most womanly woman in town, so he can make forbidden love and forget everything about dwarves and their cute little pretty smiles.


End file.
